It's the Hair, Isn't It?
by tinypinkmouse
Summary: Some traditions just can't be avoided. It's quite possibly a fate worse than death. Slash, Roy/Ed.


Fic written for scmoop bingo on lj. Prompt: _wedding - showers_.

Slash. No idea when this is supposed to be happening or what 'verse. Just is. Sure I meant to say something more, too tired. Post now, then sleep. Hope it wasn't anyhting important.

* * *

Ed looks at himself in the mirror and straightens his tie for about the fifth time in as many minutes. Then he pulls at his sleeves and decides he needs to make sure his gloves look fine.

"Ed," Roy says from where he's sitting on the bed. "It's all fine. There's no reason for you not to leave." Ed can hear the amused smirk Roy is wearing. Bastard.

"Are you sure. There could be an emergency at headquarters." Ed turns to look at Roy with a slightly maniacal glint in his eyes. "Something could explode."

"Ed, you're not blowing something up just to have an excuse not to go."

Ed tries out a charming smile that probably turns out looking more like a slightly manic grin. "I didn't say I'd have to do it."

Roy sighs. "Ed, I'm not blowing anything up either. In fact there will be no explosions of any kind," he explains patiently. "Hawkeye would shoot us both."

Ed feels his face fall. "Are you sure?"

"Yes," Roy answers firmly.

"Fine, but…"

"Ed," Roy interrupts, somewhere between amused and exasperated. "You've asked me if your hair looks fine three times in the last half an hour. _You have asked me about your hair. _I think you're pretty much out of options at this point." Roy gives him a careful look, that turns a bit resigned before he opens his mouth again. "I'm sure it won't be that bad."

"You…" Ed growls at him, then tries to calm down. Deep breaths Killing Roy will not make things better. He repeats that thought a few times. "Well you're not the one going, are you?" Ed yells out and stomps out of the bedroom. "Why am I the one going anyway?" He yells back at Roy who seems to be following him. "And if you say anything about my height or my hair or if the words cute or pretty enter anywhere into your answer," Ed whirls around to face Roy. "You will not," he stabs a finger at Roy's chest. "Have sex," another stab, "before our gold anniversary!" Stab. "That's fifty years Roy. _Fifty years!_ I had to look that up, because apparently it's something I'm supposed to know!"

The silence stretches out once Ed finishes.

"It's traditional," Roy says after a while.

Ed scoffs and looks at Roy. Right, because they've always followed tradition in everything.

"Because I'm a general?"

"And I'm a colonel! That doesn't make me a woman!" Ed yells and waves his hands in emphasis.

And then Roy stops playing fair. "Hawkeye and Winry really want you to do this."

Ed's stomach drops and he looks at Roy pitifully. "Do I have to?"

"I'm afraid you don't have a choice. Think about the positive side, there will be food and gifts."

Ed sighs. He appreciates the effort, but he's pretty sure not even food will make this night tolerable.

Roy puts a hand on his automail arm and pulls him closer. Ed winds his arms around Roy's waist and tilts his head backwards. He can feel Roy's smile when their lips meet.

"You'll get through it," Roy tells him a bit later when Ed's head is resting against his shoulder and Roy's arms are holding on tightly to him. "You've survived worse," Roy assures him. "Barely," he adds in what Ed can only assume is a bout of uncommon honesty.

* * *

Ed is lying on the couch, his limbs sprawling haphazardly and his head pillowed in Roy's lap. There's a dazed look in his eyes and Roy suspects it's not going away anytime soon.

He strokes Ed's hair quietly and wonders if he should try saying something. Ed whimpers and his automail hand clenches, like it's trying to hold something invisible. The arm jerks up a bit and Ed moans something that sounds a lot like "not again" and then the arm falls back down.

Roy feels slightly guilty that he's still extremely glad that he's not the one who people automatically slot into the female role in this relationship. After all, everything he told Ed earlier is true; Roy is a general and they can't afford not to follow tradition in this, even if tradition generally speaking assumes that one of them is a woman. Well Ed was the one who proposed, even if that's not really common knowledge, so it's not like this is Roy's fault.

"They made me play Cotton Head," Ed whimpers.

Roy pets Ed's hair carefully. The wedding is still a month away and there's a few traditions Hawkeye seems to be set on still, not to mention the wedding itself. At least they both get to wear their uniforms for that.

"There was gossip." Ed sounds like he's telling Roy about the weather, maybe getting a bit of distance from the evenings earlier events is good for him. "And lingerie," Ed adds in a detached voice.

Alright so Roy really needs to figure out a way to make this all up to Ed. He pets the whimpering blond again. At least he has the next fifty years or so to work on that.


End file.
